Rule With Heart
by starkidpatronus
Summary: Disclaimer:I don't own any part of Harry Potter. This is a story about Neville & Luna in Neville's sixth year & Luna's fifth.Luna is dating Michael Corner,just go with it.It also highlights Neville's inner struggle w/ his parents & all.What do you think?
1. The Library

**So,this is my first fanfic about the couple that should have place in Neville's sixth year & Luna's fifth.I love this couple so much,and I was really bummed when they didn't happen in the books,but ecstatic when they happened in the movies!This is also a lot about Neville's inner struggle with his parents & Bellatrix & why he was in Gryffindor & all that ,here we go!**

Neville dipped his quill into his inkwell and started a new sentence of his Charms essay. It was really hard, and Charms had never been Neville's strong point. He sighed as he finished the sentence he was working on, and decided to take a break. He replaced his quill in his inkwell, and looked around at what was going on around him in the library. Dean Thomas was over in a corner with Ginny Weasley, who was clearly trying to simply get some work done. Hannah Abbot was at the front desk, and it looked like she was arguing with Madam Pince about checking out an excess number of books. Ernie Macmillan was over at the table to Neville's left, arguing with Zacharias Smith. Then Neville's eyes wandered over to the table to the right of him.

Luna Lovegood was sitting next to her new boyfriend, Michael Corner. Somehow Neville's eyes always made it back to her. She had gotten close to Michael last year. When Cho defended her friend, Marietta, for telling the DA about Umbridge, Cho became quite unpopular. Ravenclaws still talked to her, but Gryffindors, who had never really liked her in the first place, completely shunned her. Slytherins hated anyone who wasn't a Slytherin. Hufflepuffs, the House of the Fair, while being understanding of why Cho defended Marietta, still could not excuse Cho's behavior. The whole of the DA refused to talk to her, except for Michael and Luna. Michael had always been a friend of Cho, and Luna, always the caring one, took pity on her. So the three became close last year, and Cho had started to date Michael. But that hadn't worked out. So Luna and Michael had started dating.

Neville watched as Michael got up from the table and walked over to Madam Pince. He handed her a note, and Neville watched as Madam Pince led him to the back of the library. He assumed that she was leading him to the restricted section. Neville looked back over at Luna. She was alone at the table now, her brows furrowed. Now was his chance to walk over to that table and talk to her. But instead, Neville just sighed and turned back to his essay.

Neville wondered if he would ever find a clique. Everyone at Hogwarts had one. There was Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who were inseparable. Fred and George had been even more inseparable when they had went to Hogwarts, but they had also hung out with Lee Jordan, and, well, everybody. Oliver Wood, Katie Bell, and Alicia Spinnet had always been together, except when Wood was strategizing or reminding the Gryffindor Quidditch team of new tactics. Ginny was insanely popular; Neville guessed she had some of the same DNA as Fred and George. Even Luna had someone, and she'd always been counted as an oddball, just like Neville. Which is why Neville and Luna had also become close last year in DA and at the Ministry. She'd been a friend. Which is why Neville had thought at the end of last year and on the train ride this year that maybe, just maybe-

But no, Michael had swept Luna up, and Neville was left in the dark again, with no one to turn to. True, people had been treating Neville differently this year. He was getting a lot more respect and appreciation because of what had happened at the Ministry last year. For example, McGonagall had given him the first compliment she'd ever paid him. But he still didn't have a friend, just more respect. He thought back to the first year, all the way back to getting his letter-

Gran had been so happy. She had said she'd been convinced he was a Squib. She had immediately gotten out his dad's old wand and said they needed to go to Diagon Alley straightaway. Neville was exhilarated when he first saw all the sights he'd never seen before, the sights he'd only been told about and had dreamt about for so long. The owls, the broomsticks, the wizards and witches using their wands. So many sounds and smells. Neville hadn't known where to look first! It had all been so exciting. He'd gotten Trevor, his toad, his cauldron, and all his spell books. It had been the happiest day of his life.

Then Gran had run through the barrier between platforms 9 & 10 with him, and he saw all the kids he'd be going to school with. They'd passed one kid with dreadlocks who had been walking around with a large box, and once, Neville had caught a glimpse of a long, hairy leg emerging from it. He'd lost Trevor three times on the platform, and had struggled getting his trunk onto the train. When the train pulled away, Neville had watched Gran wave goodbye until the train had turned a corner and the platform was out of sight. He'd then lost Trevor again, and that's when he had met Hermione. When he was nearly in tears over Trevor, she'd volunteered to help. They hadn't found him, but she had been the first magical person he'd been in contact with that was his age.

Then all the first years had gone in the boats, and Neville had gotten Trevor back from Hagrid, who'd found him, and they were soon at Hogwarts. Neville had gotten out of the boat he'd been sharing with Harry, Ron, and Hermione and they'd all gone up to the castle's large, front, oak doors. They'd met McGonagall, who, at first sight, Neville had thought that it was not a good thing to be on her bad side. They'd been sorted, and Neville had watched as Hermione became a Gryffindor, as well as Seamus Finnigan. Then, it was Neville's turn. He'd gone up, shaking and trembling, more scared than he had been in his whole life. When he'd sat on the stool and McGonagall had put the hat on his head, he could barely think. He wanted to be in Hufflepuff, where he would be safe. The safe house, the safe thing, that was what Neville had always done. Never taken a risk, and he was never going to. That's how he knew he at least would never in Gryffindor. That was the most terrifying thing in Neville's mind at that moment. Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of heart. He wasn't good enough. He never would be, so the Hat would never put him there. So at least he hadn't had to worry about that (or, at least, he'd _thought_ he hadn't had to worry about that...). He'd been so scared, so very scared. Then he'd heard the Sorting Hat speak in his head-

" Oh, too easy. So much courage inside. Deep down, yes, but so much. He'll do great. Amazing. A true hero. Only a few see it. Not even he does. But he has it. He's brave. At the heart, where it counts. So easy. Well, then, this has been fun, but I'm gonna' let you go now. 'Guess you're a..."

Neville hadn't believed what he was hearing. The Hat was saying he had courage, that he was brave! It must be malfunctioning. He couldn't let the Hat make this mistake. It would ruin his time at Hogwarts! Forever in the wrong House. The outcast, the oddball, the weird one. He couldn't let that happen. He'd always dreamed of Hogwarts. He couldn't let it be ruined by this. Not by some stupid Hat. He couldn't let it happen, he _wouldn't_ let it happen!

_NO! _He'd shouted in his head.

A pause. Then the Sorting hat had said in a deathly voice, "What? What's this?"

_You're wrong, _Neville had responded._ I know what you're thinking of doing, and you're completely wrong. I _don't_ belong in Gryffindor. I'm not brave at all. I'm _not_ a Gryffindor!_ Neville had been scared of what would happen to him for arguing with the Hat. In the back of his mind, he'd known this was silly. Only the Hat could hear his thoughts, and the Hat couldn't do anything to him. But he'd still been scared. This was all so new, so strange, so unknown. He'd felt like he was taking the biggest chance of his life.

The Hat had said," You dare tell me I'm wrong? I've been doing this for centuries, boy, I've never been wrong. So, as I was saying-"

It was gonna' say it. That last word, Gryffindor. But no, that wasn't gonna' happen to him. Not on his watch. _No,_ he'd thought again, but more firmly this time. _You're wrong. I belong in Hufflepuff. I don't have any courage. I'm scared. I'm a Hufflepuff. I'm...I'm..._

"A loser," The Hat had finally said. Another pause. "Boy, I hope you realize it doesn't matter what you consciously think. I can still hear your subconscious."Neville had gulped. He had begun to plead.

_Please. I can't deal with that pressure. I can't live up to that reputation._

Yet another pause. Then the Hat had begun to speak in a gentler tone, or at least as gentle as the Hat could be."Longbottom's your name, isn't it?"Neville hadn't responded. "Kid, if I'm correct-and I'm never wrong-You have a lot more to live up to than a House." Neville had swallowed hard then. He couldn't let people see him cry. Not here. Not in front of all the people at Hogwarts. His future classmates. He was not going to cry here. "And you're braver than you know. Not crying, even though I've touched the most sensitive subject in your world. And, you didn't even realize that you were standing up to _me_, the ancient Hogwarts Sorting Hat, who no one has _ever_ said no to. Who no one has _ever_ argued with. You think that doesn't take courage?"Silence. Neville hadn't known what to say. He was thinking, mulling this over, confused. Then, before he could form another thought...

"GRYFFINDOR!" The Hat had finally shouted it. And the Hat's decision was final, Neville knew that. So that was done. His years at Hogwarts were going to be horrible. He realized, as he walked to a seat at the Gryffindor table while surrounding Gryffindors had screamed like mad, that he had never expected to win the argument with the Hat. The Hat's first impulse was always the one it went with, and it was always right. Except for Neville. Neville was the only exception, he knew that. But there was no going back now, no changing it. At least he'd gone down with a fight.

Then he'd realized the whole hall was laughing at him. He'd forgotten to take off the Sorting Hat! He ran back up to the stool and gave it to the next kid, then returned to Gryffindor table. He'd sat down next to Hermione, the only person he'd known, and listened to the surrounding Gryffindors cheer. He'd looked up at the staff table, and saw Professor Dumbledore giving him a strange look. He was smiling, but it also seemed he was lost in thought, caught in a flashback, looking at Neville like he was different...almost like he was someone...important. Gran had told Neville that Dumbledore was an amazing wizard, the best. So then why was he looking at Neville like that? Had he done something wrong already? Was he doomed?

But then Dumbledore turned his gaze back to the next first year being Sorted, and Neville shook it off. He watched as Harry, Dean Thomas, and Ron all became Gryffindors. He saw Draco Malfoy become a Slytherin. He watched as Ernie Macmillan became a Hufflepuff. Then, soon enough, it was time for the feast. Neville listened as Seamus told about how his mom didn't tell his dad that she was a witch until _after_ they were married, and laughed along with everyone else. He stared as Nearly Headless Neck almost detached his head from his neck, but not quite. Then Dumbledore made his speech, and Fred and George finished the Hogwarts school song in a slow funeral march tune. Then it was time to go to bed, and everyone hurried to the doors, shepherded by the prefects. Neville had turned back when he'd reached the door. Dumbledore was giving him that look again, and Neville couldn't figure it out. He wasn't in trouble. He could tell that now. He hadn't done anything wrong. But then what did the look _mean_?

He'd wondered about many things that year. Why had he been put in Gryffindor? What did the Sorting Hat know about him that no one else did, not even himself? What did that look mean? Why was he so bad at magic? The first year was a complete blur, except for the beginning and end. Standing up to Harry, Ron, and Hermione. Then the End-Of-Year Feast.

At the feast, when Gryffindor and Slytherin had been tied for first, Neville was on the edge of his seat, just like everyone else in the Great Hall. If only Harry, Ron, or Hermione had gotten just one more point-

"And finally, there are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore was saying."It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but a great deal more to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

Neville had sat in shock, not quite comprehending the words. Then it had hit him. He'd won them the House Cup._ He,_ Neville Longbottom, had won Gryffindor the House Cup! He couldn't believe it. The cheers were insane. Neville couldn't take it in. He just stared up at Dumbledore, who was smiling benevolently down at him. People were piling onto him; he couldn't tell who was who. He didn't care what Gran would say, he was happy that _he'd_ done it, by himself, for himself, Neville Longbottom. It was the happiest moment of his life, better than getting his letter, better than going to Diagon Alley -

And then he'd realized two things. One, he'd had a pretty good year. Two, Dumbledore had just told him why he'd been put into Gryffindor. Neville looked back at Dumbledore, who was still smiling at him and applauding. But then there was a flicker of that smile from the Sorting; that look that Neville had never quite figured out. But he let it go and simply enjoyed the moment, the best one in his life.

In the second year, he was deathly terrified that he was going to be targeted by the monster from the chamber. Even though he was a pure-blood, everyone knew he was practically a Squib. But he hadn't been attacked, and he got through the second year unharmed, unless you counted Draco Malfoy constantly tormenting him.

The third year came and went. Neville went to Hogsmeade with everyone else, well except Harry (However, there were rumors that even Harry had made the trip...). He steered clear of the dementors, who frightened him even more than the basilisk. He actually did well in Defense Against the Dark Arts. It had been a good year for Neville. Uneventful, unless you counted that one dementor on the train.

In the fourth year, he'd watched as Harry won the Triwizard Tournament. He saw him come out of the maze with the body of Cedric Diggory. He'd attended the funeral with everyone else. He'd heard people make fun of him in the halls saying that Harry would only be top in the class if he were to set up a school with Neville. That had hurt, but he was used to it by that point. The worst part of the year for Neville had been that one Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. Imposter Moody making him watch as he performed the Cruciatus Curse on a spider. All he'd been able to think about was Mom and Dad, tortured, then put in that ward at St. Mungo's. When he'd found out that it was really Bartemius Crouch, not Mad-Eye Moody, he'd shut down for the rest of the year. He didn't know how to take the news that one of his parents' torturers had been his teacher, had done the very curse that had driven his parents to insanity right in front of him, had made him watch. That year had been...okay, unless you count being emotionally scarred for life.

Then the fifth year had come 'round, and Neville had joined the DA, and he felt like he was a part of something. He was happy. But that happiness turned to embarrassment when Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had found out about his parents. Now they understood why he had lashed out when Malfoy had made that comment about insane people at St. Mungo's. It was the worst moment of Neville's life. Then he'd found out that Bellatrix Lestrange had broken out of Azkaban. The woman whose fault it was that he visited his parents with his grandmother at St. Mungo's every Christmas and Easter, instead of going home to see Mom and Dad. She was out in the world. She was free. That was the worst moment. That year, Neville didn't shut down. He took news about his parents differently this year than last; he responded with anger. He didn't shut down; he shut others out. He became incredibly focused in DA lessons. He'd even mastered the Shield Charm faster than anyone except Hermione. Then the Ministry happened. He fought, but it was also when he met Bellatrix Lestrange. The anger he felt when he saw her was so extreme, he thought he'd never be able to feel happy again. He could still hear her words, loud and clear in his head:"Longbottom, is it? Why, I had the pleasure of meeting your mom and dad!""I KNOW YOU HAVE!" he had shouted. She'd done the Cruciatus Curse on him, to see how long it would take for him crack like his parents. It was horrible. He couldn't describe it, but he could remember the exact pain. That was also the day he'd broken his old wand; Dad's wand. Dad. He was so sorry. Mom, dad!

"Hey, Neville?"

Neville jumped ten feet into the air. He turned to his right. Luna was standing there, a parchment and quill in hand.

"Oh. Hi Luna. How are you?"

"Fine. But I'm a bit confused about this essay for Herbology. Can you help?"

"Yeah, sure. What do you need?"

"Well, we have to tell the who discovered the Snarguluff, but I can't find it in any book. Do you know?"

"Oh, yeah, that was Eleanor Crockins."

"Well, do you happen to know what book that would be in? We have to cite everything. Book, page, paragraph, and sentence."

"Wow. So Sprout hasn't just gone crazy for the N.E.W.T. level."

"Well, I don't think she's crazy. I just think she cares a lot about her class and wants people to really learn in it."

"Right."That was the one thing about talking to Luna. She always took everything you said 100% seriously. She clearly hadn't understood that Neville simply meant that she'd really gone extreme with the amount of work she was giving them. However, Neville didn't mind. He liked Herbology; it was his best subject. It used to be the high point of all his letters to Gran when he was constantly writing her back in the first, second, and third years. But he'd stopped that, and he only wrote to her occasionally when something major happened."There's one book that has _everything_ about Herbology. Be right back."He turned around and dove into the stacks. He went to the Plants section, and found the huge book. When he emerged, he placed the brown, peeling book on the table.

"Now that's a big book," Luna said in her airy voice.

"Yeah," Neville responded."Like I said, it has _everything_. Now let's see," he turned to the book's index."Where is it? Ah, here it is. Snarguluff, discovery of. Page 394."He turned in the big book to the page, skimmed it, and said, "There."

"Where? Here?"Luna pointed her finger to one sentence on the page.

"No, here," Neville replied, gently taking her hand and guiding it to the proper spot.

They locked eyes, and the moment was perfect. Still keeping a gentle grasp on her hand, Neville started to lean, and he could've sworn she did too-

"Luna! Luna, I've got it!" The two jumped apart. Luna spun around; Neville looked over the top of her head.

It was Michael Corner, waving a book over his head, looking very pleased with himself."I got it. I got the final ingredient to the Draught of Living Death potion! I know it! Extra credit!"

Luna was half looking at Michael, half looking behind her at Neville. "That's great, Michael," she said softly. She was looking down and away from Michael, but not quite looking at Neville. She was in no-mans-land between them.

"So, Michael, what N.E.W.T.s are you planning on taking next year?"Neville asked, trying to fill the awkward gap and be polite, even though at that moment he wanted to do the Leg-Locker Curse on Michael so badly it almost hurt.

"Well, I'm hoping to get into Charms, Potions, and Herbology."Michael answered, politely, but seeming like he too just wanted to fill the gap.

"Herbology, eh?"Neville responded, pouncing on that idea."You wanna' be an Herbologist when you grow up?"

"Well, I'm not sure. All I know is those are the subjects I like and I think will be useful."

"Useful? What do you mean that they'll be 'useful'?"

"Well, I mean, charms always come in handy for the little things in a house. Potions are needed for illnesses and if you need something specific, like a lucky day. And you can use plants for some medicines and stuff."

"Some medicines and stuff, eh? So if you intend to use plants for medicines, can you tell me which plant heals minor cases of Dragon Pox?"He had said the words before he'd thought about them, before he could stop them. Neville was challenging Michael in front of his girlfriend, on Neville's own turf.

"Uh, well," Michael stammered."Um, that would be..."

"Don't know, do ya'? It's Drimbulus. Not well-known among people who aren't experts in the field, but basic for those who are. I mean, elementary. I learned _that_ in my third year."

"Oh, well..."

"Come on, Michael. It's getting late. We should probably get back to the common room," Luna piped up. She clearly wanted to stop things before they got any uglier.

"Right," Michael responded, giving Neville a look that had a cold edge. The two went back to their table and began to pack up their books and left. Neville watched her go until the last wisp of her blond hair disappeared behind the other side of the library's door.

_Great, _Neville thought. _The only reason I came to the library instead of working in the common room is now gone. _It was true; Neville usually did his homework in a corner of the common room. Even though no one usually said two words to him, the atmosphere was like cozier. Being in Gryffindor was like feeling like you were part of a family; that was just the feel in the air of the common room. Fred and George used to be at the center of it all, always, every night. In their earlier years, they'd set off Filibuster Fireworks. Then they'd developed Canary Creams, Skiving Snackboxes, and fireworks that could beat Dr. Filibuster himself. But then they'd made their famous escape last year, leaving behind a swamp and two holes in the castle wall above the great oak front doors. They'd moved on to create Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in Diagon Alley, and their shop was now famous. Now, Coote and Peakes were the joksters in Gryffindor; pulling pranks and setting off Filibuster Fireworks in the common room whenever Gryffindor won a Quidditch match. Neville loved his house. It was easily the best in Hogwarts, and he had always known that, but sometimes he wondered what would've happened had the Sorting Hat listened to him back on September 1,1991. If he had been put in Hufflepuff like he'd wanted. What would've been different? Would he have friends, a clique? Or would he be even more of an outcast? Well, there was no point thinking about it. It wasn't going to change anything. Neville still thought the Hat had been wrong on that day, but its decision was finally, and though it was often questioned, it hadn't been wrong yet.

Neville packed up his homework, sighing as he put his Charms essay away. He was gonna' fail it anyway. What was the point? He slung his bag over his shoulder and walked out the door, thinking as he left, _The hat was never wrong. Never wrong before me._

**So,how was that?Please review!**_  
><em>


	2. Detention and the Mirror of Erised

**Chapter Two**

_This is such rubbish,_ Neville thought as he added Valerian Sprigs to his Forgetfulness Potion. _I don't even take his class anymore!_ Here he was, two weeks later from his little incident with Luna and Michael in the library, in detention in Snape's classroom on a Friday night. All he'd done was drawn his wand on Malfoy for calling Ron a bloodtraitor and Hermione a Mudblood. He hadn't actually intended to use it! But then in Snape had walked, and Neville was busted and immediately given detention. The worst part of it was that it was with Snape. One reason he had quit Potions was because he was bad at the subject, but the main cause for him to quit was because he hated Snape so much. And, boy, did Snape hate him. Neville hadn't even done anything bad! He was just horrible at Potions. Was that really a just reason to torture someone?

Neville sighed as added a few Mistletoe Berries to his cauldron. Snape had a gift for giving the worst detention possible for that specific person. Snape knew Neville's lack of talent for Potions all too well, and so he had gotten the task of making the Forgetfulness Potion in this classroom over and over every Friday night until he made if perfectly according to Snape's standards. Neville knew that Snape was making him specifically make the _Forgetfulness_ Potion just to mock him. Why couldn't McGonagall have caught him threatening Malfoy? At least she wouldn't have been _this_ cruel to him. She would've given him a moderate punishment, just like she did with all students. No favoritism with McGonagall. You could never count on getting off easy with her. But at least you could count on a punishment that fit the crime.

It was strange, he felt like he'd made this potion before, but he couldn't figure out when. He knew they'd never made it in class. It was for N.E.W.T. level classes. Then he realized when he'd made it before, why these motions were so familiar to his unpracticed hands. He actually had made this potion before, in this very dungeon and, as he thought about it, at this very table. Snape had given him detention for failing to make a Cure for Boils in class. Snape had wanted to torture him even more, so he'd been forced to make this potion. However, he had to say, that detention had the best result he could've ever imagined...

After the detention was finished, Neville had left the dungeon, dragging his feet. He wasn't paying attention to where he was going, and soon enough, he misplaced his foot and fell through a tapestry, which actually had a slide made of stone behind it. He'd tumbled down the slide, and when he'd reached the bottom, it had taken him a few seconds to figure out where he was. When he'd finally got his bearings, he'd realized he was on the first-floor corridor. Just as he'd slowly risen into a standing position, half hunched over, he'd heard Filch's shuffling footsteps. Fear immediately had overtaken Neville, and he had fled into a deserted classroom. He'd waited at the door for awhile, listening to Filch pass by the room. When he was finally sure that Filch had left, he'd breathed a sigh of relief. He was safe and protected by this wonderful inner sanctum.

He'd turned around at that moment, and had laid his eyes on the most beautiful, elegant mirror he'd ever seen. It had dragon claws for feet and the inscription "Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi," across the top. But that wasn't what had caught Neville's eye about this mirror. He did see himself as he gazed into the glass, but there were two other figures on either side of him. A man and a woman. Neville knew at once who they were, but still he walked closer and closer, just to get a better look. Neville himself looked fit and tall, and was grinning gallantly. The only times Neville had ever looked like that was when he'd gotten his acceptance letter and gone to Diagon Alley. He certainly didn't look like that now. But he wasn't focusing on his own reflection. Instead, he gazed at the people on either side of him. The woman was smiling, but there were tears in her eyes as she looked down at Neville. The man looked at him with such pride Neville had never known.

It was his parents.

His parents, and they were proud of him. He didn't know why, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that they were there, and they were _proud_ of him. _Him_, Neville. They were sane and proud. His mother had put her hand to the glass and, without realizing it, Neville had drawn his hand slowly to where his mother's was. But when he'd finally reached the spot, it wasn't his mother's warm touch that he felt, that he had always yearned to feel, but the cold glass of the mirror. Neville had then stumbled back away from the mirror, suddenly frightened. It had seemed so good before, but now he was frightened of this terrible, horrible, evil, lying object. It was cruel and mean. Neville had fled the room, not caring if he was caught by Filch or Snape or McGonagall or anybody else. He'd just wanted to get away from the mirror at that moment, to never face those awful lies again. Those wonderful, blissful lies...

And, even though he'd never wanted to see the mirror again that night, he couldn't resist coming back again and again, gazing at the mirror and dreaming of things that could never be. He sat in front of the mirror for hours every night after the first time he'd discovered the mirror. This went on for two weeks until he got a surprise visitor in the classroom.

"Hello, Neville," he'd heard from behind him. He'd jumped ten feet in the air and turned around. It was Dumbledore.

"P-Professor!"Neville had stammered."Uh...uh...hi. Er..."

"Enjoying yourself?"Dumbledore had asked with a knowing twinkle in his eye. Neville had nodded."It is amazing, isn't it?"Dumbledore had sighed.

Neville had nodded again and said, "Yeah," He had then gulped and repeated with tears in his eyes, turning back to the mirror, "Amazing."

"Neville," Dumbledore had said from behind Neville, "you see your parents when you look into this mirror, don't you?" Neville had nodded again, still not taking his eyes away from the reflection of him, his mother, and his father."And they're proud of you, "It was a statement, not a question. There was a pause. Neville had felt like he was talking to the Sorting Hat again. "Neville, I understand your longing."Neville had looked down then, then turned around and looked up at Dumbledore.

"No," Neville had said."No, you don't. You can't."

"Oh, Neville," Dumbledore had replied, looking down at Neville with a twinkle in his eye again. Except this time, the twinkle was sad."I understand more than you could possibly know."

Dumbledore had then looked at the mirror with the same look of wanting and hope Neville imagined he had whenever he looked at the mirror. And that's when he knew that he _did_ understand, even if he had no clue what Dumbledore was seeing. Then he'd said abruptly, "They are proud, Neville." Neville had looked at Dumbledore, puzzled, then back at the mirror. There they were again, just like always.

"Professor, I-I don't understand what you mean."

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Neville, this mirror shows what your heart truly desires. Normally, it shows what does not exist. But since it only shows what the person wants according to their knowledge, it could show what is real. The person desires this because they do not know it actually exists."Neville frowned, confused.

"But, Professor," he said. "what I see in the mirror, it...it_ isn't_ real."

"Oh but Neville, it is. More than you know. It is true that your parents will never be healed, but they are proud of you."

"How do _you_ know?"Neville had challenged back.

Dumbledore had given him a long look then, and, after a short pause, had said,"I knew your parents before..."he faltered, just like people always did when they reached this point in Neville's story. He was used to it. Apparently not even Dumbledore was immune to it. "Before the...incident,"That's what people usually said. The incident. If not that, then the situation. "They were such...such wonderful people."People always faltered there too. Sometimes it was fake. Sometimes they were looking for the words. Sometimes they needed a moment before they went on. Neville could tell it was the latter with Dumbledore."When they found out your mother was pregnant with you, their happiness was unmatched by anyone I've ever seen. And when you were born, I came to your home to visit. You were only an infant. When I looked in the parlor window, I saw them over your crib. Your mother was looking down at you, tears in her eyes. And your father had the widest grin across his face. And in their looks, there was so much love...and yes, pride. Pride in their first son, for things he hadn't even accomplished yet. And so I left, without going inside, knowing that this was a golden moment for them to be with their son. That was the night before..."Dumbledore did not finish the sentence. When people did that, Neville usually gave them a defiant look, daring them to complete the statement. But he couldn't give that look to Dumbledore. Not now, not after what he'd just told him."Neville, they loved you. They were so proud of you, when they didn't even know what you would accomplish yet. They just knew it would be something great."

"They didn't know what would happen though!"Neville shouted back."They didn't know what I would become! Or," he said in a quieter tone, "not become."

"And what," Dumbledore said in a soft, gentle voice, "do you mean by that, Neville? Surely you are proud of your accomplishments."

"What accomplishments?"Neville argued back, now breaking down."Ever since I came here, I've done nothing good. I haven't done anything _worthy_ of their pride. I have no talent, I'm no good at anything, and I have no friends! I'm wondering how I even got an acceptance letter here!"Neville had turned away then, biting his bottom lip, unwilling to let Dumbledore see him cry. But Dumbledore had known why he had looked away, and he had come over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"Neville, whenever I came over to your parents' to visit, they always spoke of you. Always. And most highly. I'm sure they would never wonder why you got your acceptance letter, and they would be so proud of all your many accomplishments that you do not even realize you have made."

"I haven't made any. And, besides, how would you know if they would be proud?"

"Because I am."

There was dead silence in the room. Neville did not dare look at Dumbledore, but instead looked at the mirror."Why?"he asked, so quietly that he could barely hear himself.

"Because I've seen your progress, Neville, and I know what you will become. You will become someone great. A true hero. I know it, and so did they. They still do. I know they do."Neville did not respond, just kept gazing at the mirror. Dumbledore went on, "Although they are proud, Neville, I do not think they will ever be able to be sane in our either of our lifetimes. Not in the way we think of sane."Neville knew that Dumbledore was trying very hard to keep the bitterness out of his voice, for Neville's sake, but he was not succeeding. Neville did not mind. He knew Dumbledore's anger was not aimed at him. "Neville, when you look into this mirror, the Mirror of Erised, it shows your heart's true desire. More often than not, it shows things that can never be. Therefore, it is an unhealthy pleasure. Many great men have rotted away in front of this mirror, staring at it and hoping and dreaming of things that will never happen. I do not wish this to happen to you, nor would your parents. Which is why the mirror is going to be moved tomorrow night, and I ask you not to search for it."

Neville had spun around at that moment, causing Dumbledore's steadying hand to fall off Neville's shoulder, and had begun to stutter, "What? But-But-sir-Professor-I-NO!"

Dumbledore had looked down at Neville pityingly, which Neville hated. He could never stand when people did that. Dumbledore had then seemed to realize what he was doing, and stopped at one. He had then said, "It does no good, Neville, to dwell on dreams and forget to live."And with that, Dumbledore had walked out of the classroom, leaving Neville with a hurting head, heavy heart, and, most importatnly, one last night with the mirror and, therefore, one last night with his parents.

When he'd turned around, he'd been ready to see his parents there, proud of him, just like the mirror always showed. But there was something different about the reflection. Yes, his parents were there. But they weren't proud. They were just...there. _That's curious,_ Neville had thought. Then he'd realized why they weren't proud in the reflection.

Though his mind had not yet chosen to believe Dumbledore's words, his heart knew they were true. His parents _were_ proud of him, and Neville knew it in his heart. And so he'd walked away from the mirror to the door of the classroom. When he'd reached it, he'd turned around, casting one last longing gaze at the mirror. They were still there, smiling just like always. Neville had wanted to go back to them, he'd even taken a slight step back towards the mirror. But then he'd gotten scared, and the reflection hurt too much to look at, and he'd fled the room just like the first night he'd found the mirror.

"Longbottom!"Neville looked up sharply from his cauldron. He'd been so intuned to his daydream that he had zoned out and hadn't realized that Snape was standing across the table in the dungeon from him."Do you _ever_ listen? Your time is up. And you've failed. I will see you back here next Friday evening, seven o'clock."

Neville was still in a sort of haze, still half coming out of his daydream, but he knew when Snape was insulting him just by his tone of voice. He'd heard it enough throughout the years. He knew it was best to just nod, do the safe thing, rather than risk another detention. He could even add in a glower if he wanted, he'd probably just get yelled at, nothing more. But the words escaped his lips before he could stop them, "Well I know that's fine for you. I know you never have anything better to do on a Friday night."

Snape, who had already turned his back on Neville and had been packing up his things into his bag at his desk, slowly turned around to glare at Neville. However, there was more than a glare in this look. There was...shock. Neville wasn't surprised by this, he'd shocked himself. He knew it was better to flee now-Snape had already dismissed him, after all-but he stood his ground, wanting, for some reason, to hear Snape's response. His wanted to know what Snape had to say to _that_; what he thought of it. He realized that this was partly because he didn't know what to think of it. "Longbottom," Snape said slowly in a cold, very dangerous voice that Neville, for some reason, recognized, "I suggest you leave. Right. Now."

Neville, whose sudden streak of bravado was gone, nodded and hurriedly grabbed his bag and stumbled from the room, scared out of his wits of what would happen if he didn't leave quickly enough. He was deathly frightened Snape might even change his mind about wanting Neville to go and would follow him. He full out ran to the Gryffindor common room, but then realized he didn't remember the password. He then went to the only place he knew he could go where he wouldn't get caught by Snape. He went straight to the tapestry with the unicorn on it and began to pace back and forth, thinking, _I need a place where Snape can't find me...I need a place where Snape can't find me..._After the third time of pacing in front of the tapestry, a door opened up, a door Neville recognized. _That's weird_, he thought. But there was no time to think about it, because at that moment he heard swift footsteps coming closer. He threw himself through the door.


	3. The Room of Requirement

**Chapter Three**

**Disclaimer:I don't own any part of Harry is just for fun.**

**Here we are,chapter shoutouts to Psycho8 for the review and favorite and BlueAlseides for the favorite!You guys rock!**

He found himself in the exact place he knew he'd end up in: The room they'd used for the DA last year. There it was, exactly the same. The Dark Detectors, the books, the tables, the mirror. He wondererd why the Room of Requirement had displayed _this_ room to him, as oppose to any other. Couldn't he have just gotten a whole new room that would've served its purpose just as good as this one? All he'd asked for was a place to hide from Snape. He realized that he was panting, and immediately found a chair at a table. He sat down to gather his breath and his thoughts. When had Neville heard Snape use that voice before? Certainly not to him. Snape had been incredibly horrible to Neville, but it never seemed like Snape was mad about it. Certainly not enough to use that voice. It was almost like Snape had taken pleasure in tormenting Neville all those years. But then...Who had received the pleasure of getting that voice before? And it didn't feel like it had occurred merely once. It felt Neville had heard it used multiple times...but always aimed at the same person...

Harry! Of course, it was Harry! The one person Snape had to hate more than Neville had always been Harry, for whatever strange reason. All Neville knew was that Snape had hated Harry with a burning passion before Harry had said anything to Snape. If Neville recalled correctly, Snape had used that tone of voice with Harry on their very first day of Potions. But not just then. He'd used that voice whenever Harry...rebelled against Snape. So, what Neville just did, was he actually...rebelling?

Neville decided not to think about it, because this new concept made his brain hurt. Instead, he stood up and began to walk around the room. Yes, everything was exactly the same as when they'd last been there. It was all just as it had been for DA lessons. The table Neville had just been sitting at, he realized with a jolt, was the exact one Padma had used the Reductor curse on. That one had been so powerful it had turned the table leg to dust. Neville smiled at this memory. Now this, this was what he'd imagined Hogwarts as. A place with cool and fun magic. A place where you formed fantastic, magical memories with...

With friends. And Neville realized then that Luna had been right on that first day back on the train; the DA truly _had_ been like having friends. They'd all spent time together, and now Neville had amazing memories of this place. He walked around the room some more, gazing at the familiar surroundings. When he reached the mirror, however, he stopped.

It was the same glass as always, with the same frame. But there was something...different about it. Then Neville noticed the clippings around the mirror. There was still the picture of the Order from before, still the same old ones about jinxes and amazing feats over dark forces. But there was one extra one. It was about Neville's parents. He began to read.

**ESTEEMED AURORS FRANK AND ALICE LONGBOTOM DEFEATED BY THE DARK LORD**

_Many people in the Wizarding Community have always known of the famous aurors, Frank and Alice Longbottom. Due to the fact that You-Know-Who recently faced his down-fall because of his meeting with the now famous Harry Potter, nobody expected there to be any more attacks by his followers. But recent events now tell us that nothing less should be expected.  
>This past weekend, Frank and Alice Longbottom were tortured into insanity by Death Eaters. The leader of the Death Eaters was Bellatrix Lestrange. One of the others was Bartemius Crouch Jr., son of Bartemius Crouch sr., current Minister of Magic. The technique used to torture the Longbottoms was the Cruciatus Curse, arguably the most painful of all three Forgivable Curses, including the Killing Curse, which leads to a short, painful death. Many view the Longbottoms' condition as worse than death, therefore proving the Cruciatus Curse to be the most savage known to Wizardkind. The Longbottoms now reside in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.<br>Many are wondering how and why these events occurred. The how is easy; it was a lack of security due to a sense of security that You-Know-Who was truly gone. This is quite understandable, though. No one ever imagined this would occur, directly after You-Know-Who's downfall. This is why this event has caused such an uproar among wizards and witches everywhere. It seems everybody knew, or at least knew _of_ the Longbottoms, in some way. Everybody is asking the central question of why this incident happened. The Death Eaters in question wanted to know You-Know-Who's whereabouts, and thought the Longbottoms knew something because of their long, esteemed history in being aurors. They believed the Longbottoms had something to do with You-Know-Who's descend of power. It is unknown for certain whether or not the Longbottoms did know where You-Know-Who is, but it is highly unlikely. The Longbottoms told You-Know-Who's followers that they were unaware of where You-Know-Who was, but the Death Eaters did not listen, convinced the Longbottoms knew_ something_. They continued to use the Cruciatus Curse on them to the point where the Longbottoms were rendered no longer valuable to the Death Eaters' purpose.  
>Albus Dumbledore, current Headmaster of Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardy, has agreed to comment on the event. "It is utterly disgusting," he says in a bitter tone, "how such an atrocity could occur just when people all over are finally thinking they are safe. These riots are for good reason. People are not just angry that two aurors suffer this fate."He continues in a softer, more heartbroken tone, "They are furious that Frank and Alice Longbottom suffer this tragic fate."<br>The Longbottoms also have a son, Neville Frank Longbottom. The boy will now live with his grandmother, Augusta Longbottom, mother of Frank Longbottom. When asked to give a statement on the arrangement or overall situation, Mrs. Longbottom refused, saying it was "too difficult," then blowing into a handkerchief.  
>When asked about the child, Dumbledore said, "This boy has experienced so much he cannot yet understand, and he will not be able to understand the full repercussions this day has had on his life for a very, very long time. No one will. He will have wisdom beyond his years, and he will have to be very brave to go on with life after this...incident. I imagine he will often visit his parents, including on holidays after he begins attending Hogwarts."When asked how Dumbledore was sure the boy would get in, was sure his magical ability was not weakened because of this event, he responded, "No one has ever question whether or not Harry Potter will attend Hogwarts. It is true that Neville's situation will be most likely harder for him to deal with, due to the fact that he will actually have to see his parents regularly. But I'm sure he will deal with the situation admirably. I'm sure his magical abilities will not be infractured in the least because of these events, and if they are, then it will only be because of his own thoughts and emotions, not his actual level of talent."We then asked Dumbledore how he thought the boy would deal with the situation."He will most likely break down when he finally understands what has occrued. Then when will shut it out most of the time, only letting it surface when he can't avoid it. One of two things will happen. He will either show incredible talent at a very young age, and a strong desire for vengeance. Or, he will stumble up often, almost as though he fears the world. Though he will grow into this vengeance at one point. It will most likely be ignited when he meets Bellatrix Lestrange, the leader of the Death Eaters who committed this crime against his parents. And he will do great things. Truly remarkable." We took note of the fact that he had said "when" and not "if" when referring to the boy meeting Lestrange. We asked him how he could be certain this would occur. He told us that, "It will. It will because it has to."<br>No one can be sure what will come of this incident, or what will become of the boy. The hearing is on September 8. We will have full coverage of the event. A record of the Longbottoms' life until now can be found on page 4. _

Neville stared at the article for a long time. He realized his knees had gone weak. He quickly went back to his chair, his head pounding and his heart aching. The article had been so analytical of the "situation", the "incident." How could it? It had spoken of the day that had altered the course of Neville's whole life, set his destiny, whatever it was, in stone. And it had spoken of it all as if it was some boring report due for the next class! Of course, Neville knew that newspaper articles were nothing _but_ reports, but would it kill them to show a little emotion, a little heart? Neville was shaking from head to toe, partly out of rage, partly out of fear, partly out of a grief and longing that he'd only gotten from the Mirror of Erised that one night, and partly from an unknown source. It was a feeling he'd never felt before, that he couldn't identify. He decided to not think about it, because thinking hurt too much.

He walked back over to the mirror, and began to look at all the different articles. He was searching for page 4 of that issue of the _Prophet_. But it was nowhere to be seen. He yelled in fury and went back over to the article. It featured a picture of his parents before the "incident," then one after, when they first began to live in St. Mungo's. The pale, white faces with glassy eyes he had to see every holiday, the faces that were his parents...

He ripped the article down from the mirror. He didn't want anybody else to ever see it. It was private, for his own eyes, even though all of the people who had picked up the paper that day had most definitely seen it on the front page. He walked over to his bag, which he had set down next to his cushion, crumpled the article up, and threw it into the depths of the bag. Not only did he not want anyone else to see it, he never wanted to see it again.

_Wisdom beyond his years._ That was what Dumbledore had said. Had he really meant it, or had he simply been saying it for the press? No, something about the way Neville knew Dumbledore had said it clearly showed he had meant it. Besides, Dumbledore never said anything he didn't 100% mean from the heart. Neville blinked back the tears that were beginning to form in his eyes.

Would that day haunt him for the rest of his life? A day he couldn't even remember. He couldn't even remember the faces of his parents before "the accident."All he could ever see when he thought of his parents was what he saw in St. Mungo's. But he also felt a certain warmth, a warmth he knew had always been there. He remembered it from that time before "the incident," even though he could never bring up a face to go with it. All he had were photographs and gum wrappers ,and those were nothing compared to memories. He barely even had pictures because Gran had cut out all their faces from the ones before the day that had changed their lives forever. Neville had no idea why. But he had caught some one day when he was up in the attic, a few that Gran had missed, and he kept them in the corner of his trunk, hidden away from the world, everyone else, including himself. He almost never took them out, unless he was feeling so thoroughly depressed that only illusions could help. For some reason, Snape had never been able to bring Neville down that far. He couldn't touch him there. But in the fourth year, yes, the book imposter Moody had given him about Herbology and being told Professor Sprout thought he was good at it had helped him some after being so tortured, but it was really taking out the pictures all alone in the boys' dormitories and gazing at them, pretending the people in them were still with him, in the same world as him instead of their own confused one. As for the gum wrappers...He kept them in his pocket all day, and at night made sure he hadn't dropped one. He was extremely careful with them. If there was one thing he _never _forgot, it was those wrappers. However, even though they filled a spot in his pocket, they could never fill the gaping hole in his heart.

Suddenly, quite suddenly, he heard a noise from behind him. He turned around and saw, of all people, Luna emerging from the door. "Oh, hi, Neville," she said confusedly. She seemed to be wondering why he was here just as much as he was wondering why she was here.

"Hi, Luna," he said. His palms were suddenly very moist, and he was having trouble swallowing.

"What are you doing here?"she asked.

"Um, well, um. I was just...er..." he looked over at the bookcases on the walls and thought fast. "I was just looking up a charm. Yeah, I needed to know the proper way to turn vinegar into wine. When I asked for a room that had a book that would tell me that, it showed me this room."He hoped she would not notice that he was nowhere near the bookcases. If she did, he hoped that she would simply assume he had just arrived at the room or was getting ready to leave.

"Ah, yes, there are a lot of useful books here, aren't there?"she asked in her dreamy voice as she strolled over to the bookcases."Which one told you about the charm?"So she had assumed he was getting ready to go. Good. But now he had to tell her which book he used. Not good.

He walked over and stood next to her at the bookcases, surveying the many titles. None of the ones he recalled from the fifth year would tell a simple charm; they had all been filled with countercurses and counterjinxes and had been designed for the teaching of Defense Against the Dark Arts. However, as he looked over the books, seeing the same ones from the fifth year, his eyes stumbled upon a different one:_ Any & All Charms Needed for Common Household Events & Parties_. Surely _that_ would have something on turning vinegar into wine. But why was it there? It definitely had not been there in the fifth year. Then he remembered that the room showed whatever the user required at that moment, hence the name. "I used that one," he said, pointing at the charms book.

She read the title aloud,"_Any & All Charms Needed for Common Household Events & Parties._ Funny," she said as she turned away from the book and looked at Neville, "I don't remember that book being here during DA lessons."

Neville felt himself go red. What could he say? Then it came to him. He had already answered this question in his own mind."Well, I asked the room for a room that had a book that would show me the charm, and it showed me this room. I guess it added the book to this room for me."

"I guess," Luna said."But I wonder why it didn't just show you a different room that already had the book in it?"

Neville had to think fast on his feet."Well, maybe the book didn't exist before. Maybe it created it or fetched it or whatever this room does just for me. Then it simply added it to this room rather than creating a whole new one," he said inventively. It was worth a shot, right?

"Yes, I think you're right about that," Luna responded, resigning her argument. Neville was relieved; he was running out of excuses and creative responses.

"So, why'd you come here?"he asked.

"Oh, I asked for a place to practice a spell," Luna replied. "This was the room it showed me. I guess it's being lazy today, not wanting to create new rooms."She had a twinkle in her eye that said she was making a joke, rather than being 100% literal for once. Neville was amazed.

"What spell?" he inquired.

"Oh, not a big one. Just the Reductor Curse. It's part of the fifth year curriculum, actually. But you wouldn't know that because none of us learned anything in Defense Against the Dark Arts last year."

"Right," Neville grunted. He still despised Umbridge."Didn't everybody learn that in the DA, though, last year?"

"Well, yes, but I've gotten a bit rusty over the summer. You know, we've just gotten back to school and all. I just need a little practice," she said, her big eyes looking at him kindly.

"Right. So, um, what don't you get about it?"

"Well that's just the thing. I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing wrong. Could you watch me then tell me what I need to fix?"

"Sure," he said."Give it a go."

She took a deep breath, took aim at the same table leg Padma had vaporized last year, and shouted, "_Reducto!_"The table leg stood there, rigid as ever, unwilling to budge. Luna looked sheepishly over at Neville and said, "So, what's the matter with it?"He knew what the problem was at once, and knew exactly the right way to fix it.

"Well, you're using your arm too much. Some spells, you really wanna' use your arm a lot and get aggressive with it. But others, like this one, you wanna' use your wrist more. So here," he crossed over to her and gently took her wrist."Now try it."She was looking at him, a bit startled. He then realized that he had his arms around her and was reaching down her arm to her wrist. But he didn't want to seem awkward about it, and he certainly didn't want it to seem like he was making a move or anything; this was completely accidental. He decided to pretend that he had not noticed what he was doing, though he could feel the heat rising in his face, and said, "Go for it."

She nodded briskly, still looking a bit shy, and said in a loud, but a bit less firm, voice, "_Reducto!_"The table leg disintegrated. "I did it! I did it!" she shrieked, still in Neville's arms, though appearing more natural. "I actually did it!"

"Fantastic! Great job!" he said. She looked so happy, so exuberant. Then suddenly, she froze, and they locked eyes. Neville was still holding her wrist in the exact same way as before. And, before Neville could think of what was happening, they kissed.

He couldn't think of what was happening or how it had happened. All he knew was that all his nerves were on end, though numbed at the same time. A pleasant, peaceful feeling had swept over him, and the everything was frozen: Time, life, the world. Nothing happened for those blissful few moments. It was as though the earth had stopped spinning, though at the same time, everything was spinning extraordinarily fast. Neville had no idea what was going on, what he was feeling, he only knew that this was one of the best moments of his life-

And then it was over. They pulled away. He looked at her. She looked stunned. Whether it was at him, herself, the kiss, Neville did not know. All he knew was that he could feel the color rising in his face, though he had no clue why. His heart was telling him that he needed to stay and talk to her, and he wanted to; this could be the start of the best thing in Neville's life. But then his mind came in and began to interfere, saying that it was best to get out fast, before things got any worse. And so he stumbled over to his bag, collected his things, and said awkwardly, "So, um, 'see you around." And before she could respond, he practically ran from the room, stumbling out the door and making a beeline for the Fat Lady.

The password suddenly came to him, though Neville could not think why. Maybe it was because his brain was on the highest alert it had ever been, his senses sharp and alert. He shouted, "Dilligrout!"at the portrait, who looked rather snippy at being yelled at, but Neville did not care. He ran past the chaos that was the common room, where a set of Fred's and George's fireworks had been set off, and hurled himself up the boys' dormitories staircase, through the door of his year's room, and into his bed. He pulled the curtains around himself and buried his face in his pillow, breathing slowly and trying to collect his thoughts. When he finally regained control over himself and his mind was running on more than instinct, more like real logic, he turned over on the bed.

_All right, stay calm,_ the logical part of his mind told him. But the other part was saying,_ You just kissed Luna Lovegood, the girl you've been crazy about for a year now, and you're saying 'Stay calm?' I don't think so, buddy!_ He had no idea what he was feeling right now. All he knew was that everything was a blur and that his mind was racing at about 10,000 miles a second. He decided to tell his mind to just stop thinking, which didn't really work, but was a bit of improvement. He pulled back his curtains and blew out his candle, which he had forgotten to do that morning so it had burned down to a tiny wax stub, the last part just barely glowing. Then he pulled his curtains back, and, just as he was drifting asleep, smiled. He realized that, at that moment, he could've produced the world's best patronus.


	4. The Confrontation

**Chapter Four**

**Disclaimer:I still don't own any part of Harry .**

**So,I decided to post 2 chapters at once because I have them,and I realize it would be mean of me to just not post the next one after that last here it shows Hermione's powerful interrogation power,because I am a firm believer in girl power!**

The next few days, he tried his utmost to avoid Luna. He didn't talk to her, he deliberately went down different corridors than her, and he didn't even chance looking at her because he knew he would begin to stare at her. Why? Because he was scared. Scared of what would happen next. He knew _something_ was gonna' happen, something had to come of all this. But he was trying to postpone it as much as possible. His mind was saying he had to, and he was definitely listening.

He also was avoiding Michael. Just imagine what would happen if the two of them were to bump into each other. Would Neville let something slip on his own? Or would he be so obvious that something was wrong that Michael would ask what it was, push for information, and Neville would either give in or have to lie, which he was not particularly good at.

Basically, Neville was actually just avoiding everybody. He didn't make eye contact with anybody in the halls, but that was not unusual for him. But he wasn't even talking to Harry or Ron or Hermione or Ginny. He was keeping his head down at all times, just like he had done when Bellatrix Lestrange had escaped from Azkaban. He realized that he was shutting down and shutting himself out, but he didn't try to stop it. This was what he usually did when something was bothering him or he was emotionally confused and shaken. Usually, these two things went hand-in-hand.

One night, when he was sitting alone in the common room, presumably finishing Herbology homework, but really thinking about Luna, or trying not to but not succeeding, Hermione appeared beside him, with an understanding yet determined look on her face."Hello, Neville," she said with a tone that matched the expression on her face.

"Hi, Hermione," Neville said, eyeing her suspiciously. She had a strangely knowing look in her eye, and Neville didn't like it. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," she said."Just finished translating some ancient runes. What are you up to?"

"Herbology," he answered. He could tell this was simply unnecessary chitchat that was filling the gap between Hermione starting in on her main task in talking to him. He could tell that she was preparing to go in for the kill, and he had a pretty good idea what this was all about, which set him even more on edge. Neville knew Hermione was a very poor actress, and was bad at lying. He knew what was coming.

"Oh," she said, keeping up a falsely cheery voice that Gran always had when talking to Neville's mom or dad. "Is it fun?"

He shrugged. "I guess," he answered, wondering when she was going to get to the point.

"Hm. Well, um, Neville," she sighed, and Neville knew that she was going to talk about what she came here for."I've just been wondering...that night you had detention with Professor Snape...You came back awfully late..."

"So?"he asked, immediately going on the defense and setting up a wall between him and Hermione that most likely wouldn't hold; Hermione was sure to knock it down.

"Well, I was merely wondering...Where were you between the time you were in Snape's classroom and when you came back here?"she asked, the picture of innocence.

"I was walking here. Snape kept me really late, "Neville responded, his face expressionless. He'd gotten good at putting up walls over the years.

"But, Neville, it's against the rules to keep a student in detention past-"

"Since when has Snape followed the rules?"Neville argued spitefully."He just makes up his own to suit his purposes. That's what he did with me all those years."

"Well, I know Professor Snape may bend the rules occasionally to fit his liking, and he may display a bit of favoritism towards Slytherin once in a while-"

"_Once in a while?_ Hermione, where have you _been_ for the past 6 years, 'cause it's definitely not in the same Potions class as the rest of us!"Neville exclaimed as he gestured around the common room.

"But I'm sure he would never keep you _that_ late. He doesn't want to get in trouble with Professor Dumbledore."

"Why would Dumbledore find out? And if he did, why would he care?"

"Well, he would find out if _you_ told him, and he would care because he cares about you."

"He's never said more than two words to me," Neville said angrily, which was stretching the truth to breaking point. It wasn't even stretching the truth, it was outright lying, and Neville didn't know why he was doing it. To prove a point? But _what_ point? _Does it really matter?_ he thought to himself.

"Neville, he knows how close you..."Hermione began, but then she seemed to catch herself in telling him something he wasn't supposed to know. He narrowed his eyes down to slits.

"_What_ does he know about me?"Neville asked skeptically.

"Nothing, "Hermione squeaked unconvincingly. She really was the worst liar he had ever met."I don't even know why I said that. But that's not the point, Neville," she said as he was just about to push her for answers."The point is..."she looked around, made sure no one was paying attention to them, leaned close, and whispered, "I know what happened in the Room of Requirement...between you and Luna."She seemed to have added the last part to get her point across, just in case Neville wasn't sure what she was talking about. How could he not, when it was all he had been able to think of since that night?

"How?"he whispered back immediately.

"Never you mind how," she whispered back, and there was fire in her tone and eyes, and Neville knew, through six years of knowing Hermione, that this meant not to push her."All that matters is that I know, and I'm telling you that you _need_ to act on this. You _need_ to talk to her about this."

"What do you mean by that?"Neville asked through gritted teeth, still defensive, even though he knew full well what Hermione was talking about.

She responded through equally gritted teeth in an even angrier voice ,"I mean that you have shut yourself out from the world for the past few days, and don't you _dare_ try to deny it! This is what you always do when you're confused or angry or both. This is what you did when Bellatrix Lestrange broke out of Azkaban last year. You get scared of new things. The funny thing is that you were in the Ministry, you were subjected to the Cruciatus Curse by the same woman who did the curse to your parents to drive them insane and you're afraid of starting a relationship with a great girl who you've been in love with for a year now. You are _always _afraid to try new things. And when you're afraid, you get angry on the inside, but unreadable on the outside. But I can read you like an open book, Neville Longbottom. I know _exactly_ what you're doing and it needs to stop _now_. Understand?"

Neville simply sat there, stunned. Hermione was exactly right about everything she had just said. She knew a lot about Neville, it turned out, when he had never thought they were really _that_ close. He realized she was still sitting there, glaring at him, waiting for an answer, daring him to say no. She was the kind that would not give up until she got an answer, even to something you thought was a rhetorical question. She would pester you endlessly and not give up until you gave her answer. So Neville gave a quick nod as to avoid that hassle.

"Good," she said. Then, she added in a lighter, gentler, more motherly tone, "Neville, you usually rule with your head. But just remember. We're in Gryffindor, where dwell the brave of _heart_. Maybe that's what you should listen to for once. It is what got you sorted into the right house."And she left him with that to think about and, for once, no chance of finishing his Herbology homework.


	5. Pansy Parkinson

**Disclaimer:I own no part of Harry Potter.**

**SURPRISE!This chapter is..._told in Luna's perspective!_Haha,bet you didn't see that one coming!Why did I do this?Well,I could be professional & say that I wanted to show a greater depth to the story by showing both points of view,or that I also wanted to give some insight on Luna's point of view,or move the plot further along,but the truth is,I just like throwing curveballs. ;D Thank you so much to BlueAlseides for the review!**

**P. about updating so late.I'll update another chapter right now!**

"Hey, it's Loony Lovegood!"

Luna looked around for the source of this sound, but she didn't have to look far. There was Pansy Parkinson, standing just a few yards in front of her, and running straight towards her. Luna knew there would be no way to avoid the forth-coming collision; Pansy was gaining distance quickly and she was much too fast for Luna. So she squared her shoulders and took the blow as best she could. The force of the hit brought her down to the ground and made her book tumble out of her hands.

"Stupid, Lovegood," Pansy sneered in her face. "Don't you know that you shouldn't stand in the way of someone who's _running_? Or did your blessed father never teach you that?" She kicked dirt into Luna's face, causing her to cough. "Oh, I'm _sorry_," Pansy went on. "My foot slipped. Must've been the...oh what do you call them? Nimbles?"

"Nargles," Luna murmured, looking down, careful not to meet her torturer's eyes.

"I'm sorry, what did you say? I didn't quite catch that," Pansy taunted leaned down mockingly.

"Nargles!" Luna shouted as she looked up slightly, but still did not meet Pansy's eyes.

"Oh, right. Forgive me. I always mix up the Nimbles and the Nargles, don't you?"

"There are no Nimbles," Luna growled through gritted teeth.

"Are you sure, Loony? Positive?"Pansy threatened. She had evil in her eyes, and it was because Luna had dared to correct her. Of course, Pansy had wanted her to counter, just for the pleasure of watching her cower over her now malevolent gaze. And Luna knew what she had to do if she wanted to move on.

"Never mind. There are," she muttered.

"I'm sorry, could you speak up please?"

"There are Nimbles!"Luna said angrily.

"Thought there were," Pansy replied. "Well, see ya' 'round, Loony!" She kicked Luna in the side, making her double over with pain, and walked away.

Luna took a deep breath, and slowly stood up from the ground. It was nice to be standing again; the grass had scratched her face. She picked up _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ and started to walk towards a tree on the grounds again, when she heard another voice:

"Hey, Luna! Wait up!" Luna turned around to see Ginny Weasley running towards her, her blazing red hair flying out behind her.

"Hello, Ginny," Luna said when Ginny reached her. "How are you?"

"I should be asking you that question," Ginny replied. Was Luna wrong, or did Ginny seem to be slightly angry at her?

"What do you mean?"she asked confusedly.

"I mean that I saw everything that just happened. I was running to try to help you, but I was all the way at the Greenhouses and by the time I got here, she was gone. And you hadn't done anything to stop her."Ginny's eyes were piercingly angry. No, wait, not angry. Exasperated. And Luna knew why.

"I know," she said shamefully.

"Luna, what do I keep telling you? The only reason Pansy, or anyone for that matter, picks on you is because you _look_ like such an easy target! The picture of innocence. They _know_ you won't fight back, and they think what they do is _fun_! They know you hate it, but they also know that you won't do anything about it! So _do_ something! Fight back! Be brave!"Ginny had fire in her eyes now.

"Ginny," Luna sighed, "there's a reason _you're_ in Gryffindor and _I'm _ in Ravenclaw. I'm not brave like you. You'd be smart enough for Ravenclaw, but it's just that you have so much bravery, that Gryffindor is perfect for you. Gryffindors pride themselves on courage. Ravenclaws, well, we pride ourselves on our intellect and ability to keep a cool head in heated situations. In order to think of a logical solution."

"Luna, enough with the logic! Enough with the figuring stuff out! Do something illogical for once in your life! Honestly, there's nothing to figure out here! She hurts you, right?"

"Right, "Luna said cautiously.

"A lot. It really hurts. But it also makes you mad, right?"

"Right."

"So then stick it to her! Punch the lights outta' her!" Ginny exclaimed, punching the air with a tight fist, in case Luna needed a demonstration. She was so loud that several people in the courtyard turned their heads. If Ginny noticed, she showed no indication that she cared.

"Ginny, that's a lot easier for you to say. Besides, it's not like I care," Luna replied, beginning to walk towards her tree again.

"But you do!"Ginny argued, walking with her."I know you do! I can _see _that you do! I heard her talking about Nimbles before. And you were really angry about it, I could tell! But you weren't angry about Nimbles, I know you weren't, and so do you! You were angry that she knew she could get away with what she was doing to you, and that you wouldn't do anything to stop her!"

They had reached the tree. Though no one ever said it, everyone knew it was Luna's tree. If you ever needed to talk to her at break or when classes were done, you could find her here, in the shade of this tree, flipping through pages in _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_, gazing at wonderful animals that no one had ever believed existed, but that Newt Scamander proved did live. He was her hero. She would do anything to meet him.

"What do you want me to say, Ginny?"Luna asked sadly.

Ginny sighed. "_Something_! Something she doesn't want you to say. Something she'd never _expect_ you to say. Something _you'd_ never say in your whole life!"

"Well, Ginny, if I were to say it, then I would say it in my whole life," Luna reasoned.

"Luna!"Ginny shouted."Ugh, you are so difficult to talk to!"

"Ginny, can we please end this discussion? It's rather personal," Luna asked politely.

"You see, you always do that!"Ginny said angrily.

"Do what?"Luna responded, confused.

"You don't talk about things you _need _to talk about! Take a few weeks ago, for example!"Ginny's voice dropped suddenly. "What happened with Neville."

Luna instantly began to look through pages in her book, not daring to meet Ginny's eyes. "That's...that's...that's different," she said quietly.

"Oh no it's not, Luna Lovegood!"Ginny replied, getting madder by the second. "And you _know_ it's not! I know you're probably feeling very confused right now, a really messed up tangle of emotions, I know, but you _need _to _talk _to him about this!"

"How am I supposed to when he keeps avoiding me?"Luna asked reasonably.

"Luna, you know that you're avoiding him too! You could've cornered him already if you wanted to!"

"It's not that easy, Ginny-" Luna started.

"What's hard about it? Just talk!" Ginny said.

"All right, fine, you win," Luna resigned. "I'll talk to him."

"Good," Ginny said. "Do it tonight."

**So what do you think?Should there be more story-telling from Luna's perspective?Less?Please review!It makes me feel happy & motivated. :D**


	6. Greenhouses

**Chapter Six**

**Disclaimer:I still don't own Harry Potter.**

**So,here it is!The big next chapter is pretty long & complicated,so it's gonna' be awhile 'till the next ,don't get your pitchforks & torches yet!The chapter after that will be very light-hearted and fluffy.**

Neville carefully bent his head over the Devil's Snare he was watering. It wasn't safe if it was given too much water, because it would overgrow and start clinging to other plants, objects, and, eventually, students. So he was adding very small jets of water to the plant's soil at ten second intervals. This being automatic for Neville, he was free to be thinking of other things while he did this. And he was.

It was late Friday evening, and Neville was in one of the greenhouses on the grounds. It had been 3 weeks since his little event with Luna in the Room of Requirement. He had succeeded in steering clear of her, hurrying to class and not looking at anybody and staying holed up in the Gryffindor common room. He had also been thinking of what Hermione had said, though. She had been right about it all. He _would _have to talk to Luna eventually. And he was beginning to work up the courage to do so. _Soon,_ he thought as he continued to water the Devil's Snare. _Soon I'll talk to her. But not yet._

Suddenly, though, the door to the greenhouse banged open. Neville spun around. There, looking a bit distressed, stood Luna. Neville got the feeling that she had been searching for him, and this had been her last hope. She hadn't actually expected to find him, though. She seemed relieved, but a little taken aback, nervous, and...scared."Neville," she said in a small, breathless voice."Hi."Neville took note that her voice didn't have its usual dreamy quality.

"Luna," Neville responded, just as breathlessly."Hey."Well, he had decided that he was going to talk to her soon.

"Where have you been?"she asked."I've been looking all over for you. You haven't been at any Quidditch matches, in the library, in the Great Hall. I haven't even seen you in the hallways. I guess you've been in Gryffindor tower, because I can't get there."Her great big orbs filled with tears."You've been hiding from me," she said in a small voice, not asking, but telling. She was showing how painfully honest she could be and that he had hurt her. He felt immediately guilty, and the look on her face was hurting him, but he was determined not to show it.

"Well, it's just, I-"he tried to answer with words, but couldn't find the right ones, and so was resorted to mouthing mutely, then just gazing apologetically at her.

"It's all right," she said, her dreamy voice returning. He could tell she was trying to be strong, just like him. She was putting up a wall. "I know why. I've been hiding from you too. But now I think this has gone on long enough, wouldn't you agree?"

"Yeah," Neville responded as he turned back to watering the Devil's Snare, and saw, out of the corner of his eye, Luna walk over to the plants behind him and begin watering them.

He chanced a glance over his shoulder at her. She certainly did look like she had been on a mad search for awhile. Her hair was practically a blonde bush on the top of her head. She looked tired in the way she held herself. She had even allowed her radish earrings, which were usually so neat, to get a bit dirty and disheveled. He turned back to the plants.

"So," she said, not turning away from the Devil's Snare, "I guess I'll start."There was a pause, then, "I do know I really like you."Neville felt his heart fall into his stomach, and then it started beating a thousand beats per second and the butterflies began."But I think I really like Michael too."His heart froze."I'm just not sure," she finished. There was a pause, and Neville realized she was waiting for him to answer. But he was just so stunned, he needed a few seconds."Neville?"she asked cautiously, as if afraid she'd said too much."Is something wrong?"

"What?"Neville snapped out of his daze."Oh, no, no, not at all. Everything's fine."

"Well?"she asked nervously."Can I get an answer?"

"I've liked you for a year now," Neville responded. The words had escaped his lips before he could stop them; it was like they were tired of waiting and were acting of their own accord. At that moment, they both turned around to face each other. Luna was half scared, half smiling. She started to say something, but Neville realized that she wasn't paying attention to the jet of water she was pointing at another patch of Devil's Snare, and the plant was rising and spreading behind her, almost reaching her...

"LUNA!"He shouted. "LUNA, BEHIND YOU!" Luna spun around, and shrieked. She stumbled backwards, dropping her wand. Neville pointed his own at the now frightening plant and shouted, "_LUMOS!"_A ray of light sprung from the tip of his wand, and the Devil's Snare immediately recoiled. It was only then that Neville realized that Luna had fallen directly into his arms and he had been shielding her from the plant. He released her awkwardly, and she regained control of herself. She had been shaking very hard.

"Sorry I couldn't have been of any help," she said sheepishly as she picked up her wand and dusted off her robes. "I don't know anything about Devil's Snare."

"Most don't. They teach it in the first year, and who remembers that?"he joked, grinning. Luna seemed to realize he was making a joke, and smiled appreciatively, but still seemed uncertain."Really, it's fine," Neville assured her.

She smiled gratefully, and said, "Well, um, I should probably get back to the common room."

"Oh, yeah," Neville responded. He realized that it was pretty late; going on midnight. He should probably get back up to the castle, too, but something prevented him from walking back with Luna. So he said, "See you around."

"Good night," she replied, and glided out the door of the greenhouse. He waited until he was sure she was nearly at the castle and she would never notice he was walking behind her as opposed to with her, then slipped out of the greenhouse. Something told him it was better if they walked separately for now, and he thought Luna felt that too. They needed to think about things and sort out what was going on before going any further than they had just went.

That night, in bed, Neville thought for a long time about his exchange with Luna. _So she likes you,_ said the part of his mind that was maintaining his sanity through all this. _But he likes _him_ too,_ said the part of his mind that was making sure he wasn't getting too carried away. _She's just not sure,_ he thought. This was simply him thinking, not one part or the other. He sighed and attempted to make his pillow slightly more comfortable, not succeeding. _She's just not sure,_ he repeated in his head as he drifted off to sleep, smiling slightly. At least he'd made one good discovery tonight.

**Good?Bad?Should I die in a hole for this atrocity?Please review!**


	7. The Plan

**Chapter Seven**

**Disclaimer: Hey guess what? I still don't own any part of Harry Potter! Surprise!**

**So, sorry this has taken sooooo long, I'm just really taking a long time to make that other chapter I told you about, the one that's "heavier." So this is actually the light and fluffy chapter I also mentioned, just because, well, why not? Why not have a cute, light, fluffy chapter right before serious stuff? So here it is!**

Christmas. Yes, it was Christmastime at Hogwarts. There was tinsel and ornaments and garland and the knights in armor throughout the hallways were actually polished. Singing disgusting and sometimes disturbing variations of Christmas Carols, yes, but polished.

Neville loved Christmas. It was one of the most fun times of the year. The feeling in the air was just so warm and happy and full of joy. But there was one part of Christmas he hated: Mistletoe.

Not that it affected him at all; quite the contrary. No one ever cared if Neville happened to be standing under the evergreen leaves and red and white berries. But people cared if the person they were dating were underneath the mistletoe. Or if the person they liked were under the mistletoe. Like how Harry cared if Ginny was under the mistletoe (he denied this when the boys made fun of him for it in their dormitory when Dean was out, but Harry was a bad liar). Or how Ron cared if Hermione was under the mistletoe, or how Lavender cared if Ron was under the mistletoe. Well, really, she didn't care about mistletoe that much; she snogged him whenever she pleased, actually.

Or how Neville cared if Luna was under the mistletoe. And how Michael cared if she was, too.

Michael. A great guy, yes. But he frustrated Neville so. Angered him. Made him want to punch a wall. How could he be so perfect? Star Quidditch player, excellent grades in all his courses, funny, and many girls thought him attractive. It seemed like he could do no wrong! How did he do it?

Of course, Ginny thought a bit differently about Michael, ever since Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw last year at Quidditch. But many girls overlooked this. _So he was an idiot in a moment of rage, _they always said. _So what? All boys are._ It was true, they were. Neville didn't deny this. It just irritated him that the one flaw Corner had was never taken into account.

It also did not help that the boy was a Ravenclaw. No doubt he and Luna had been spending some cozy nights in the common room together. Neville grunted at the thought.

"Neville? Everything all right?" Ginny snapped him out of his thoughts. He remembered that he was in the Great Hall, supposedly eating breakfast. Really, he was just moving it around on his plate and staring over at a blonde-haired girl sitting at the Ravenclaw table next to a boy who was one of the most desirable in Hogwarts.

"Yeah," Neville said bluntly. "Fine." He went back to gazing over at the table with the girl with the big orbs for eyes.

"No," Ginny said calmly. "You're lying. You're upset. About Luna. Harry, would you mind passing the rolls?"

Harry jumped into the air and quickly hastened to grab the basket of rolls to his left and give them, hand shaking, to Ginny. "He-here you go," Harry stammered.

"Thank you," Ginny responded brightly, taking a roll and placing the basket back onto the table.

_Honestly, he's a mess._ Neville thought. _Wait. Am I that bad?_ Deep down, though he tried to deny it, he knew he was. Then he realized what Ginny had just blatantly said out loud. "Ginny!" he exclaimed, staring in shock and horror at the redhead seated across from him.

"What?" she responded, just about to take a bite from her roll.

"You just-How did you-Why would you-?" Neville spluttered.

"Neville, for the love of God, you're a bit obvious. It's not like I'm the only person who knows you like her," Ginny replied, cutting into her eggs.

"So, wait, how many people...know?" Neville asked, frightened of the answer.

Ginny said between bites of eggs, "Well, there's me, Hermione, Harry, Seamus, Dean, and even Ron figured it out."

Neville sat, horrified as Harry and Ron looked down at their plates. Hermione and Ginny, however, seemed unshaken. "How long have you two known?" Neville asked the two boys who were now suddenly very interested with the last scraps of bacon on their plate. Harry looked up and met Neville's eyes.

"Mate, you're not gonna' like this, but...since last year. Right from the beginning," Harry said apologetically. Neville moaned and slammed his head onto the table.

"Hey guys!" Seamus said as he and Dean busted into the Great Hall. Dean scooted in beside Ginny (Harry looking away pointedly), and Seamus sat down beside Neville. "How's it going?"

"Yeah, it seems like forever since we've all just sat down and talked," Dean added, putting his arm around Ginny. He then noticed the tense silence at that table. "What's wrong?" he asked confusedly.

"We told him," Hermione answered, gesturing toward Neville. Seamus and Dean looked at each other in horror, then at Neville, then quickly back at Hermione.

"Or, really, Ginny told him," Ron said, shooting a look at his younger sister, who stuck her tongue out at him.

"He was gonna' find out anyways!" she replied angrily.

Hermione intervened before things got ugly. "Look, it doesn't matter who told him, all that matters is that he knows. And it's really not a big deal. Now we can all talk about this openly."

"But not in the open," Harry half-whispered.

"Agreed," said Hermione. "Very good point, Harry. This isn't really the best place to discuss this. So, if everyone's finished, shall we go on up to the common room?"

"We just got here!" Seamus and Dean instantly protested.

"For the love of God, come on!" Hermione shouted. The boys knew better than to argue. Everyone got up and headed for Gryffindor Tower.

Neville was still in a haze and felt like he was falling, so he didn't really hear when Ginny told the Fat Lady, "Tape worm," and he didn't really realize that he was sitting in a plush arm chair in the common room until Hermione's sharp voice hit him.

"Neville!" she exclaimed. Neville snapped out of his daze and looked around. "Honestly, Neville, if you want this to work, you're going to have to pay attention."

"Want what to work?" Neville asked, puzzled.

Ron responded with, "Well we've only been talking about it for the past six minutes. The plan."

"What plan?" Neville inquired, still very confused.

"The plan to get Luna to break up with Michael!" Ginny sighed, clearly exasperated. "Really, it's like we care more than you."

"What?" Neville shouted. "What! No! You can't...you can't do that!"

"And why not?" Hermione asked, surprised.

"Because, because..." Neville faded away. How could he tell them that, no matter how much he envied Michael, and hated him, he was happy that Luna had a decent guy, even if it wasn't him? He was happy as long as she was happy. "I just...I just want her happy," he said lamely.

"Neville, we understand that, and that's very sweet," Hermione said. "But she's not very happy if she's guilty about dating him because of you!"

"What?" Neville said for what felt like the thousandth time today. "She doesn't feel guilty about it! She doesn't care!"

"Oh, yes she does! She cares and feels guilty about all of it! She's never said it, true, but the way she talks about it, well, you'd be an idiot if you couldn't figure it out. Which, of course, means that every boy in this room didn't figure it out." Neville, Harry, Ron, Seamus, and Dean all shifted uncomfortably, because, well, she was right.

"Look, Neville. You like her. She likes you. You two should be together. We're just trying to," Hermione searched for what she was trying to say, "help move things along."

"Mhm," Neville responded, doubtful. He settled into his chair and inquired, "So what's the 'plan'?"

"Well, Harry's taking Luna to Slughorn's Christmas party," Ginny said cheerfully. Harry looked down uncomfortably.

"How is that supposed to help anything?" Neville asked. "That just makes me feel pathetic. I mean, I know I am, but no need to rub it in."

"You're not pathetic," Hermione said comfortingly.

"And it helps," Ginny explained, "because Harry's going to break Luna's heart."

"That sounds awful," Neville responded.

"Well, of course it does when you say it like that," Ron said.

Hermione added, "It's really not that bad, Neville. He's not going to really break her heart. He's just going to ignore her for the whole night, not pay any attention to her, act as if she doesn't exist. He'll leave her all alone."

"This still sounds pretty awful," Neville said, concerned. "I don't want her hurt."

"She's Luna, she won't be hurt," Ron said. "Honestly, that girl probably won't notice anything and will wander off on her own."

"She's more fragile and less oblivious than you think," Neville replied.

"Well, regardless," Hermione said, "that's when you come in. When she's all alone."

"Let me guess," Neville said, knowing full-well where this was going. "I swoop in and console her and mend the bits of her shattered heart and she falls in love with me for it and we live happily ever after. Correct?"

The entire group looked down basfully this time. "Well," Hermione said, a bit hurt, "it does sound a bit dumb when you put it like that."

"That's because it is dumb!" Ron exclaimed. "Hermione, I told you, this whole thing is just moronic!"

"Ron, we know girls a lot better than you do!" Ginny shouted at her brother. Ron was about to open his mouth to make a retort, but Neville hastily cut in.

"Look, guys, thank you for putting so much time into this, it's really thoughtful, but I just don't like the sound of any of it. I'm sorry, but I'm not partaking in this," he said, and got up and went up to the boys' dormitory. No one followed him.

**I know, I know, their "plan" sounds like a bad fanfiction. But do you really think they'd be able to come up with an Artemis Fowl idea? I will write the next chapter right now and that will be "the plan" (that Neville totally is not taking part in) taking place! So, technically, the light-and-fluffy stuff is in the next chapter. Sorry! I didn't plan it that way, I swear!**


	8. The Party

**Chapter Eight**

**Disclaimer: No part of Harry Potter is mine. Who would've thought? **

**Hello there!**

**Apologies that it has been FOREVER since I've updated this. I've had a lot of stuff going on, I guess you could say, and I didn't really have time to get inspired. But here is the chapter I've promised!**

**Light and fluffy, that's what this is! So just sit back, relax, and get ready for (hopefully, if I wrote this well) some laughs, maybe a couple of "aww"'s and a possible "grrr" here and there (don't worry, things will be resolved!). Because the plan, whether Neville likes it or not,...is in action!**

Neville looked around, and finally found them. Harry and Luna were standing at the other end of the room, having just entered. And Slughorn was immediately dragging them into the center of the party. Well, dragging Harry, who was dragging Luna. _So much for leaving her alone the whole time, _Neville thought to himself. But then he remembered that he didn't care, because he was not taking part in this deranged plan the others came up with.

"Longbottom!" he heard sharply from behind him. He turned around, and there was Blaise Zabini. "Longbottom, how many times do I have to call you? Honestly, _you're_ supposed to serve _me._ _I'm _not supposed to have to come to _you._"

"Sorry," Neville said, hiding his disdain, something he'd gotten very good at over the years. He kept his head down and kept his tone emotionless. "What would you like?"

"What are you holding?" Zabini asked, gesturing at the tray in Neville's hands.

"Dragon Balls," Neville answered.

"Dragon Balls?" The Slytherin repeated, incredulous. "Are you serious?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Neville responded.

"I'll pass," Zabini said. As he moved away, he muttered to himself, "Dragon Balls?"

Neville stared after him spitefully, thinking that he would very much like to jinx that idiot into a jelly. He was such a jerk. Oh well. Nothing Neville could do about it. He had to just keep serving and smiling. Just keep-

"Neville," he suddenly heard from behind him. He spun around, and there was Harry.

"Harry!" Neville exclaimed. "Where's Luna?"

"Where do you think?" Harry asked as if thinking Neville must have been born yesterday. "I ditched her. In about two hours, she'll catch on and you can swoop in."

Beginning to walk around and hand out Dragon Balls again, Neville told his friend, "Harry, I'm not participating in this plan. How many times do we have to go over this? I want her happy."

"And you'll be making her happy!" Harry persisted. "Neville, whether you like it or not, I'm ditching Luna. It's already been done. And she's gonna' be upset, but I'm still gonna' stay away."

"You're lying, Harry," Neville said tiredly, offering a couple of Hufflepuff students some refreshments. "You couldn't be that mean if you tried. You're way too good of a person."

"I can do it," Harry insisted. "I'll just pretend she's Malfoy."

Neville rolled his eyes and continued walking. "Yeah, that's so easy to do."

"They're both blond," Harry offered.

"And we both have brown hair," Neville argued. "Yeah, we're so easily confusable."

"Oh, lighten up, Neville. It's a party!" Harry exclaimed. " Have a Butterbeer, do some dancing, have a laugh."

"Thanks, Harry, but I'm working," Neville informed his friend while nodding at a Ravenclaw student who wanted a Dragon Ball.

"So?" Harry responded as if it didn't matter. "Blow Sluggy off, after all, he didn't let you into the Slug Club."

Neville was a bit confused by the way Harry was acting. "Harry, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing at all!" Harry replied, taking a Butterbeer from a passing server.

Neville wasn't at all convinced. Harry didn't seem to being bad; quite the opposite: He seemed absolutely fantastic! It was quite unlike him to be so nonchalant. Then Neville realized...

"Harry," he whispered, "did you drink some of your Felix Felicis?"

"Just a little bit!" Harry shrugged it off.

Neville had a feeling it had been more than "a little bit." He told Harry, "Well, just take it easy, mate. That stuff can get pretty intense."

"It's luck, Neville!" Harry insisted. "I can take it as easy, or hard, as I want, and nothing will go wrong!"

"Famous last words," Neville muttered.

"Well, I'm gonna' get back to the party!" Harry said, not hearing Neville's remark. "You should consider joining it." He drifted away, a stupid grin on his face. Neville rolled his eyes and went back to serving refreshments.

He got a good hour in when he didn't have to make any conversation with anyone or pretend like he was enjoying himself for their sake. He got by with keeping his head down, not making much eye contact, and sticking to saying, "Dragonball?"

Then he felt an arm slung around him and a boisterous voice exclaiming, "Neville, m'boy!"

He spun around and there was Slughorn, in all his glory. "Professor! Hello," Neville said, somewhat unsurely. Why would Slughorn be talking to him? He wasn't in the Slug Club, he wasn't a favorite student, he hadn't done anything great recently or, well, ever. So what was it? Had he done something wrong? Had he actually managed to screw up serving Dragonballs? Honestly, Neville had screwed up a lot of stuff in his time, but that would be an all-time low.

"Neville," Slughorn began, as he led Neville away from the people he had been serving. "I just wanted to tell you that I'm truly sorry I wasn't able to let you into the Slug Club."

Neville instantly felt incredibly awkward. "Oh, um...it's...it's okay." Really, it would've been better if Slughorn had just never brought it up and saved Neville the embarrassment. "I don't mind, I'm used to it."

"It's just there wasn't enough room," Slughorn continued, apparently not listening to a word Neville said. "But I want you to know this: I truly do sympathize with you, and I feel terrible about your parents. They were such...such good people."

Neville sighed; he got that a lot, that his parents were "such good people." And that they "were two of my closest friends," and "never deserved what...what happened." Neville often had to hold back a snort whenever he heard that last one; who the hell deserved what happened to his parents?

"Thank you, sir," Neville answered robotically.

"Well, I'll see you around! Enjoy the party!" Slughorn waltzed away.

Neville shook his head; of course Slughorn didn't really care, no one ever did. They all just said the right words and did the right actions, but in the end, everyone had better things to do than to talk about the uncomfortable topic of Neville's parents. He didn't mind, though; talking wouldn't change anything.

Neville served some more dragonballs, staying numb, not letting himself wallow in self-pity. Then he a sharp whisper form behind. "_Neville_!"

He spun around; people had to stop sneaking up on him. And he wasn't too pleased to see who it was: Ginny. It wasn't the fact that it was her that scared him, but the look she had on her face. Because Ginny looked excited. And tonight, that could only mean one thing..."Guess what?"

"What?" Neville asked cautiously, already knowing the answer.

"Luna's caught on!" Ginny was positively beaming, and Neville couldn't believe she was so happy that one of her friends was so upset. "She's crying outside in the hall!"

"And you didn't try to comfort her?" Neville asked, slightly outraged. He really hadn't thought Ginny would be able to do that.

"Of course not!" She looked outraged that Neville would dare suggest such a thing. "I'm not gonna' ruin the plan! It's _your _job to dry her tears; that's the whole point of this."

"Ginny, I've told you guys multiple times that I'm not taking part in this terrible plan." Neville tried to go back to serving, but Ginny pulled him back.

"Neville, whether you like it or not, and whether you're taking part in a plan or not, Luna is still out there crying. Now someone's got to help her, and Harry, Hermione, you, and I are the only ones who would. And Harry, Hermione, and I aren't. So if she's going to get any help, it's going to be from you."

As much as Neville didn't want to surrender his dignity and morals, Luna was hurt, and that was all that mattered to him. He handed the plate he was serving to Ginny and said, "Here." She grinned and happily took up his duties as server while Neville hurried out of the room and down the hall.

There, sitting all alone on a bench, was Luna. She didn't look like she was crying, until you got close. Then you could just make out the silvery streams on her face. Not a sound came out of her, though.

"Luna..." Neville said cautiously as he took a seat on the bench.

She turned to face him and said, "Oh. Hello, Neville." She made no effort to wipe away her tears, as if hoping Neville wouldn't notice them. "How are you?"

"Fine, I guess." Neville wasn't entirely sure how to handle this situation; should he do what she seemed to want and act as if he didn't notice anything was wrong, or dry her eyes and comfort her? "How about you?"

"I'm doing well, thank you," Luna answered evenly. "Just wondering where Harry went."

"I...I don't know." Neville hated this whole thing so much. How dare his friends make the girl he was crazy about feel this way! "He must be doing something important if he left you all alone."

He heard something catch in her throat and immediately hated himself. He was such an idiot! Why would he bring up that she alone? Why?

He rushed to apologize, "Oh, Luna, I didn't mean-"

"It's all right," she cut him off. She was actually able to put a smile on. "I'm used to it."

And that's when Neville realized just how alone Luna was, and how hurt she was everyday, even though she never let on. She was able to act like she was okay with being disregarded and pushed to the side because it happened to her all the time. It was normal for her. It was her life.

"You know, you don't always have to be so strong all the time," he said softly.

Luna shook her head. "No...no, I do." And she wasn't ditzy Luna anymore. She wasn't crazy, nargles-obsessed, loner Luna. She was just Luna. Just a normal girl. Except...not normal at all. So much better than normal. This was really her, and she was amazing.

It took every inch of his will power to not kiss her; she was beautiful. But she had a boyfriend. And she had asked for time. And he had to let her have that, as much as she needed. She was still hurt, though. So instead of offering a kiss as comfort, he put his arm gently around her, and just held her. And it was the most perfect feeling in the world, just being with her, holding her like that, in the most chaste of ways. So perfect that he wanted to stop time and just stay there forever, holding her like that.

But unfortunately, time doesn't work like that, at least not without a time-turner. And soon the wonderful moment was abruptly ended by two third-years running down the hall. Neville looked to see what they were running from, and a second later, Filch appeared around the corner, screaming, "I'll get you, you hear? I'll get you!"

The boys and Filch disappeared, and the moment was shattered. Luna left Neville's hold and said, "Well, I'll see you around, Neville. Merry Christmas."

Neville nodded and answered, "Yeah. Merry Christmas."

She was just about to get up, when she turned back suddenly and, ever so softly, pressed her lips against his. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make Neville feel like he'd been struck by lightning. Luna smiled. "Thank you, Neville." She skipped away, humming a tune.

Neville stared away her in awe, stunned, and even though he knew she couldn't hear him, muttered dizzily, "Anytime."

The feeling of Luna's lips lingered on his, and he smiled to himself, remembering that he was going to be leaving to visit his parents soon. He always saw them at Christmastime, but this year, he would actually have something happy to think about.

**All right, all right, I know. Bit of a bittersweet ending with that last line, kind of a downer. But the overall chapter was light and fun! Or, at least, was supposed to be. Tell me what you thought! Reviews are welcome!**

**P.S. How about that "Parent Trap" reference, huh? ;P I do not own "The Parent Trap" though. Or any part of it. I'm just writing a story. With characters that aren't mine. That's all.**


End file.
